


Starks of Dragonstone

by Meowmeowmerida



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Also now it's around the time of Game of Thrones, Alternate Tower of Joy, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Because he deserves to live, Convenient Plagues, Domeric Bolton lives, Drunk Robert, Families of Choice, He has a kid too, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow knows something, Jon gets legitimized, Jon is a bit of slytherin, Jon's name isn't Aegon, Like they have a well of names, Medieval Cultural Differences, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Original Character(s), Others are, PLAGUES, Pre-A Game of Thrones, Robert is unobservant, Tags Are Hard, Tyrion is Lord Lannister, Unconventional Families, Why don't Targaryens name their sons something other than Aegon?, Willas gets married, because he deserves it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-03-05 14:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13389513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowmeowmerida/pseuds/Meowmeowmerida
Summary: Westeros is ravaged by the plague of 290 AC leaving many dead and castles without Lords and Ladies to mind them. The most obvious is Dragonstone, and with his brother Stannis dead along with his young son he can't put family in such a strategic spot. He needs a loyal lord to take care of it, so he decides why not elevate the bastard nephew to the head of House Stark of Dragonstone?He does not realize that this is a huge mistake and neither does anyone else until much much later.





	1. Prologue: The Vacuum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Danivat (DannieU)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannieU/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dragonstone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165489) by [Danivat (DannieU)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannieU/pseuds/Danivat). 



> So based off of the wonderful story by Danivat (DannieU). I love that story but I feel like there was some world building that was ignored. I love this story and it so good and I recommend it, but I wanted to try my hand at a story like this.

_ “A vacuum is a hell of a lot better than some of the stuff that nature replaces it with.” _

_ -Tennessee Williams _

  
  


3rd Person PoV

 

The plague of 290 AC had taken many lives in the moons that it had ravaged the whole of Westeros. It had raged across the Kingdom for 7 moons and in that time Lord Tywin Lannister had been left mindless, barely able to do more than a babe. His son Tyrion was the Lord of Casterly Rock in all but name. The remaining Whents had all perished in the sickness much to Robert’s eternal glee. However, there wasn’t so much glee to go around. The Hand of the King had lost his wife and any chance of having an heir declaring himself too old to remarry. Lord Mace succumbed to the disease and his elderly mother somehow survived in his stead. Which was probably better for the house. The King had also lost his brother Stannis. It had drawn out Greyjoy’s Rebellion but Balon had lost all of his sons and his daughter. So in effect the plague had ended the ill fated Rebellion, but it had left the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms on shaky ground.

 

“Your grace, Dragonstone cannot be left empty.” Pycelle said to the man who was actually attending the Small Council that day.

 

“I have no children and one brother. What do you wish for me to do? Abandon my ancestral seat?!” The four year old Joffrey had perished and the babe the Queen had delivered during the plague died not long after birth, a princess that lived for a moon.

 

“Appoint someone to take over Dragonstone.” Jon Arryn told him. “And marry them into the Velaryon’s so we might have less assassination attempts.”

 

“There are many men that would be glad to be rewarded with such a seat.” Ser Kevan said hoping for it to be one of his family members. He had taken over as Master of Laws after Stannis’ death, and there was currently no Master of Ships.

 

“How old is Brandon Stark’s son?” The King asks. “The bastard boy of Lady Dayne what was his name?”

 

“Jon, your grace. Jon Sand is his name and he should be around 7 namedays old.” Varys said with a chuckle. “Apparently he was named after our Lord Hand.”

 

Jon Sand was known as the bastard son of Brandon Stark and Ashara Dayne. His constant shadow was Ser Arthur Dayne his uncle. The man had never married and when Lord Stark had taken the boy North with him Ser Arthur Dayne. His brother Lord Jeran Dayne wasn’t exactly happy about his brother leaving his home behind, but no child of Dorne was going North without a sword protecting them and what better than the Sword of the Morning? Lord Jeran would not have his nephew killed far away from home, not that Lord Stark would kill his kin. 

 

However, the Tully’s despite their words, under Lord Hoster, family became less important than reputation and his daughters being married off. There were rumors that his now dead daughter Lysa had been deflowered and had been given Moon’s Tea and she had almost died from it. Some say that left her womb mostly barren, and that’s why her children died quickly after birth or were never born at all. Lord Jeran could not know if the supposed bastard son of Lady Catelyn’s former betrothed would not be murdered.

 

From what those of the court knew of the boy. He was more like his uncle Eddard than his wild father, quiet and calm. However, being trained by the Sword of the Morning was sure to leave the boy an accomplished warrior. Not much was known about the boy, truthfully not much was known about the entire Stark family and the North. It seemed that unlike his father, and like his many ancestors, Lord Ned Stark had no ambitions in the South. His heir was betrothed to Lady Wynafryd Manderly, and his first daughter to Lord Bolton’s son Domeric. His youngest was not yet betrothed but would be eventually to another northern lord’s son. He had also begun to rebuild Moat Cailin back to its former glory.

 

“You can’t be thinking of giving Dragonstone to a bastard?” Ser Kevan said before paling at his questioning of the King.

 

“So what I can give it to one of you lot? There are enough of you at court and in positions. And bastard, I’m not keen on allowing him to be a bastard much longer. Lord Lucerys’ disappeared son came back and dropped off his daughter at his father’s house?”

 

“Lady Rhaena Velaryon, her mother was a noble of Lys that her father married in 280. She was born four years later. She was given to her grandfather by her father Aemond two years ago.” Pycelle says. “What of it?”

 

“Here is my plan. Legitimize young Jon Sand and betroth him to that Velaryon girl. Give them Dragonstone so I can finally have those cunts brought into the fold, and have a trustworthy Lord in charge.”

 

“It is a rather good plan.” Lord Varys told him. “I’ve heard that little Jon Sand has violet eyes from his mother. It might help him integrate with the Velaryon’s. Of course Ser Arthur will not leave his nephew’s side and if he’s named regent they might be less likely to assassinate the boy.”

 

“Less likely? Dayne was a Kingsgaurd and friend of the former king and prince. Shouldn’t that eliminate  the Islanders from trying to kill the boy.”

 

“He’s half Stark your grace. Many Loyalists still think they are the cause of the Rebellion.”

 

“The cause of the Rebellion was some mad Targaryen’s raping and killing indiscriminately like a group of bandits.” The king bellows angrily. “His sister was taken, his father and brother murdered and the Mad bastard called for our heads! We were barely more than boys!” The King calmed. “Write to Lord Stark and tell him what is going to happen. As soon as the Velaryon girl is flowered they’ll be married.”

 

“Are you certain that is wise? Lady Rhaena could easily die from childbirth if she is married so early.” Pycelle asks him.

 

“I don’t really care. Her kin are loyal to a bunch of madmen. The fact that they will have kin once again roaming the halls of Dragonstone and the possibility of their blood ruling it should be enough for those loyalist bastards.”

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

**A Fortnight Later**

 

Lord Eddard Stark was glad that the North was mostly spared from what is now being called the Summer Plague. The North was not as heavily affected as the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Ned could only rejoice in that, even though his wife had lost her sister. 

 

He and Catelyn marriage became strained when he had betrothed his daughter to Lord Bolton’s son. She had wanted a Southern marriage for her daughter. Ned knew that he could not do that. The North was so connected to the Starks because they were kin, often times distant, but still kin.

 

He was in the Godswood and he heard leaves crunching beneath someone’s feet. He looked up to see his wife. She rarely visited the Godswood finding it to be unsettling.

 

“My Lord, a letter from the King for you.” Ned was surprised that Robert had sent him something.

 

He wondered what his foster brother wanted now. He opened the letter and read it again. Hysterical laughter wanted to bubble up from within his chest. He is shocked.

 

“The King…”

 

“What my Lord?”

 

“The King wishes to legitimize Jon and make him Lord of Dragonstone.” Lady Catelyn looked horrified and yet overjoyed.

 

Jon was a constant reminder that Catelyn hadn’t been what his wild brother wanted. If only she knew the truth of it was that he was the son of his sister not his brother. He had wanted to claim the boy himself but Ser Gerold pointed out that his wild brother having a bastard child would be more believable. So the true king was hidden away as a beloved yet wild heir’s bastard son on a beautiful woman. A woman who disappeared from Westeros, many claiming that she went to take Rhaella’s children after leaving her unwanted son behind. 

 

A tragic story that the whole of Westeros ate up.

 

Catelyn hates the boy immensely. She knew that it wasn’t his fault but he was still a reminder that her original betrothed found her lacking. For how could pretty Catelyn Tully stand against the beautiful Ashara Dayne? Also those that she could focus her anger on where gone either dead or disappeared. 

 

Ned had to push down the hysteria bubbling up. Rhaegar’s secret son, in charge of Dragonstone. A Targaryen installed in Dragonstone by the King’s own hand, Jon Arryn’s writing on the announcement. A Targaryen with a Velaryon bride, Lady Rhaena a girl one year Jon’s junior. Ser Arthur will be thrilled, Ned knew. The man’s king was going to be in the perfect place to reconnect with those loyal to him.

 

The promise to his sister rung in his ears but maybe he would be safer and happier as a Stark rather than a Sand.


	2. Chapter 1: Lord of Dragonstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon Stark arrives at Dragonstone, the Loyalists around him also arrive, and a secret is discovered by Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got a very messed up comment from an anonymous guest. He asked why I would post a story out here and not update it.
> 
> Look dude I do this during my free time without pay because I like to do it. I don't necessarily have a lot of time. I'm trying to get into a very competitive and impacted major. I have very hard science classes I need to take. I also have a lot of ideas and I write almost every single one down and sometimes I get stuck and I need to stay away from some stories. I have also had computer problems and lost entire stories and done spring cleanings and gotten rid of notebooks with the story ideas I had.  
> Recap I do this shit for fun! I don't get paid! I want to share ideas with people! Sometimes I don't have the time and motivation to finish this shit!  
> FUCK OFF!  
> I apologize everyone but I am really tired of people demanding shit from me. School and word have due dates and deadlines, hobbies don't.  
> Rant over.

_“I never asked for Dragonstone. I never wanted it.”_

_-Stannis Baratheon: A Clash of Kings_

 

3rd Person PoV 

 

 _“Blah”_ Letter

* * *

 

 

**2 years later**

 

Jon Sand, no, Jon _Stark_ was a little uneasy about leaving Winterfell. Only Cregan Stark had gone South and not lost anything whether that be their crown, their kin, or their lives. Ser Arthur attempted to calm him and said that his regency and Jon’s marriage to Lady Rhaena would make those who dislike who disliked his father, like Jon more.

 

Jon wasn’t sure of how he felt about everything. He was a Stark, the name Jon had coveted, along with parents, in his darkest moments. Sometimes Jon wished that he could be Robb. He had everything Jon wished for, siblings, a father, a trueborn name, and a mother. How he had smarted at the fact that his mother left him behind like an object rather than a child of her own blood.

 

Jon would get a trueborn name and a gilded cage to be locked in. He didn’t want to go South, he wanted to guard his cousin’s back like Brandon Snow had guarded Torrhen’s. He wanted to watch little Arya grow and play with her more. He wanted to teach her how to wield a sword and teach her the bow. She was barely four and Jon could not help but think that she would forget him. He couldn’t help but think that maybe he was doomed to loneliness.

 

Dragonstone loomed above him, it’s towers piercing through the misty fog like mountain peaks. Jon was wearing a black doublet with a snarling white direwolf on the front. Ser Arthur was there his hand on Jon’s shoulder.

 

There was no one at Dragonstone besides the servants. He would meet his new bannermen and his betrothed once he was settled in.

 

Despite how foreboding it was, Dragonstone reminds Jon of home. It was just as gray as Winterfell and obviously a military fortress and a castle. Although the stone dragons were an amazing sight. He was shown to large lavish quarters that were fit for a prince. Which were the resident of princes’ and princess’ for generations, centuries. It was big, empty, and unadorned. It made him long for Winterfell and his smaller cozier room, an insult on Lady Catelyn’s part but Jon liked his room.

 

He found and slept in his uncle’s chambers rather than the giant prince chambers that night. Uncle Arthur just wrapped him up in his arms.

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

It wasn’t very long, three sennights to be precise, before the Velaryon’s along with the other houses including House Sunglass, Seaworth, Bar Emmon, and Celtigar arrived. There was Lord Lucerys Velaryon, Lord Adrian Celtigar, Lord Duncan Bar Emmon, Ser Daavos Seaworth, and Lord Guncer Sunglass. They bring with them Ser Aurane Waters, Lord Lucerys’ recently knighted bastard son, Lord Durum Bar Emmon, and Dale Seaworth. The person that Jon focused in on was Lady Rhaena.

 

She was a year younger than he was and unnaturally pretty in a way most Valyrian descendants were. Her eyes were an erie blue that reminded Jon of Old Nan’s tales of White Walkers. Her skin was just as pale as his. Her hair was a light silvery color that was put back into a series of complicated braids. The 10-and-5 year old Ser Aurane was looming behind his niece.

 

Lord Lucerys was her grandfather and it showed. He had tanned leathery skin with dark age spots and  deep wrinkles all over his face. He had silvery white hair and royal blue eyes. Lord Guncer Sunglass looked like the septon in Winterfell, with dark hair that had a white streak in it indicating his age. Lord Celtigar was severe looking with deep frown lines and a bald head with brown eyes. Lord Bar Emmon was a portly man with crossed eyes,  a bulbous nose, and a perpetual flush. Ser Daavos was a stout, thickly built man with hair that was rapidly turning white.

 

Jon observed all of the courtesies that he was supposed to as the Lord of Dragonstone. However, he was considered to young to be anything more than a spectator in the business proceedings along with the other boys. Ser Aurane and Lady Rhaena were given the run of the training grounds. Luckily the gathered Lords of the Blackwater wanted to insult Jon more than talk business. His uncle said that it might be better to wait until they were better rested for certainly they must be irritable from their journeys.

 

Jon and the other children were excused. Only the almost adult Dale stayed. Durum was the same age as Rhaena and probably wished that he could have married her instead of Jon. He was plump, had brown stringy hair, and ugly brown eyes. His teeth were crooked and he seemed more interested in sweets then learning the sword, he attempted to throw his weight around.

 

“Your very presence here is an insult bastard.”

 

“So I suppose the dragon seeds are an affront to Dragonstone as well.” Jon retorts with an eyebrow raised. “Or maybe Ser Aurane’s presence is an insult?”

 

“If you’re going to be a halfwit Durum, don’t speak.” Rhaena says and Jon looks over at her.

 

She looks decidedly unimpressed with the plumb boy. Her silvery eyebrow is raised and her eyes and voice cold. Jon found her to be regal.

 

“Very wise words, niece.” Ser Aurane compliments before Jon could.

 

“You have a warrior’s spirit, my lady.” Jon says quietly.

 

“A warrior’s spirit in a woman’s body. I doubt _you_ would allow me to learn any weapons.” Jon felt insulted at the insinuation that he would limit his betrothed in anything other than taking lovers. He had taught his little sister how to wield a sword and a bow.

 

“Have you never heard of the warrior women of Bear Island? Northern women have a long history of learning to fight. I would no more deny you then I would an able bodied man.”

 

“What of Lyanna Stark?”

 

“My grandfather was blinded by _Southern_ ambitions. He wanted his daughter to be Southern not Northern. I am not blinded by the same ambitions my lady. I just wish to survive where he did not.” Jon decided that although it was rude to do so it would be best if he left the rest of the group.

 

He squirrels himself away in the library in Dragonstone. It was almost the same size as the one in Winterfell. Of course the older, more secluded part of the library were all written in High Valyrian. Ser Arthur and Maester Luwin had taught Jon to read and write in it when he was younger. He opens up a book and a few letters fall out of it. He hears footsteps approaching and stuffs the letters into his doublet. He turns and finds Rhaena standing there.

 

“I fear I have misjudged Lord Stark.”

 

“I do not blame you my lady. I’m sure that no one is happy besides my uncle that I am here.” Jon says honestly.

 

“You are not happy?”

 

“I wanted a trueborn name but I never thought I would leave my family behind. I’ve lost my brothers and sisters in all but blood, and letters are never the same.”

 

“Is it not an honor?”

 

“It is my lady, more than I could have ever wished to have. However, I never wanted such material things as a castle and a lordship.”

 

“I see, it seems that all of us are but pawns in the grand scheme of things.” Lady Rhaena tells him sadly before asking to be excused.

 

She leaves and Jon goes about his day. He forgot about the letters in the derision in the eyes of the men who are going to be under his command in a few years time. Jon did not understand Southerners. They hid their insults behind kind words. Jon thought it would be better to just say what you meant.

 

When he got to his rooms and began to change into his sleep clothes the letters fell to the floor. The majority of them seemed to be written in a woman’s hand. They were signed with his aunt’s name: Lyanna Stark. Then there were the poems written by another. They were early drafts based off of all of the scratch marks and the blotches of dark ink. The poems were all espousing his aunt’s beauty and fighting prowess. Some spoke of freedom and a prophecy of a savior. Then there was the last letter.

 

_Queen Rhaella,_

_Princess Lyanna Stark has birthed a male son, but at the expense of her own_

_life. He has black hair and silvery eyes. He is quiet, rarely crying, and his name is_

_Jacerys.There is a king besides Viserys. I know you have your worries over the boy._

_Ser Arthur will be with him. There is no way that we can win this war and_

_crown him publicly. Lord Stark has claimed him as his bastard nephew_

_through Brandon Stark and Ashara Dayne. He will be known as Jon Snow,_

_and one day after I have gathered enough swords for his cause he will know_

_by his true name once again. King Jacaerys Targaryen, First of His Name, King_

_of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector_

_of the Realm._

_Ser Gerold Hightower_

_Lord Commander of the Kingsguard_

 

His breath flees from Jon’s lungs and the world drops out from underneath his feet. He had been lied to his entire life. If the king knew about him he would be murdered like his siblings. His father, no uncle, would likely be slaughtered as well as all of his cousins. He was the real Prince of Dragonstone. He had to live in fear for his entire life. Ser Gerold wanted him to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms. Even his name was a lie. He was not Jon Snow, the bastard son of Ashara Dayne and Brandon Stark, he was Jacaerys Targaryen the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.

 

Ser Arthur came into his room not long after. To check on him most likely. He found Jon (Jacaerys?) staring at the letter in his hand shaking like a leaf. His face drained of all blood.

 

“Jon, Jon, are you alright?” The boy snaps out of it and looks up in Ser Arthur’s eyes.

 

“Who am I?” He hands Ser Arthur the letter and the man takes it, and reads it.

 

“Oh Jon,” he wraps the young lord in his arms tightly. “You are yourself. You are a wonderful, smart, sweet boy who has been wronged by too many things.”

 

“Jon isn’t even my name.” He whispers eyes haunted.

 

“It is your name. It is the name you have always called yourself. It might not be your true name but it is your name nonetheless. I would care for you just as much if you were called Jacerys Targaryen as I would if you were called Jon Snow or Jon Stark.”

 

He tugs the boy into chest and silent tears roll down his face. Jon has always been like his father and uncle, both of them silent in almost all things. He takes in little gasps of breath that stick in his throat but his cries are silent.


	3. Chapter 2: Hidden Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets come to light among possible allies. Loyalties don't necessarily include family of people you were loyal to. Tyrion is done with his sister and her fucking family. Also Jon arrives in King's Landing.

_ “Some people think that the truth can be hidden with a little cover-up and decoration. But as time goes by, what is true is revealed, and what is fake fades away.”  _

_ -Ismail Haniyeh _

 

3rd Person PoV

 

The next morning the group of Lords and their children were all sequestered in a room without any servants to speak of and loyal Velaryon guards on the outside. Jon wishes to hide but keeps himself from doing so. Lucerys Velaryon and the other lords are standoffish and on one side of the table while Jon and Ser Arthur are on the other side.

 

Ser Arthur puts down all of the letters that Jon has found and slides them across the table to Lord Lucerys.

 

“What is this?” He demands and receives blank faces in response.  


 

“A dangerous secret that you need to learn.” Ser Gerold’s letter is on the top and Lord Lucerys picks up the letter staring distrustfully.

 

He reads through it and Jon sees the man’s eyes widen and he stares at Jon for a moment before recognition goes across his face. He gives the letter to the other lords. Then he says.

 

“I did not think Lord Eddard capable of such a thing.” Lord Lucerys stated with a silvery eyebrow raised, Ser Aurane gives his father a strange look.  


 

“It was mostly Ser Gerold’s doing.” Ser Arthur tells the gathered lords.  


 

“I see, the Seven be praised.” Lord Guncer says looking at the letter.

 

“What are you speaking of?” Ser Davos asked.

 

“What do you think of Targaryens Ser Davos?”

 

“I was born in Fleabottom Lord Lucerys. What do you believe?” The man is defensive. “I followed Stannis because he and he alone gained my trust and respect. Men like King Robert don’t give a shite about my people.”

 

“Fair enough, do you understand now?” Lord Bar Emmon demands of the other man, he obviously looks down on the new knight.  


 

“I can guess on the topic of conversation mi’lord.” The Onion Knight shoots back.

 

“My lords, please we cannot fight amongst ourselves.” They turn to Jon. “We hold a dangerous secret in our hands. A secret that could bring the Realm to its knees. Squabbling will not help us.”

 

“Good, you have some sense. What do you think of the Iron Throne?”

 

“It’s a prickly, ugly chair that I wish to avoid for as long as possible. I’d rather not get near it at all unless I absolutely have to.” He says after a moment. “My family does not have the best track record with it.” That gets Ser Aurane to smile.

 

“Yes, you have the right of it. Hopefully you have a better time with it that your grandfather.”

 

“That is something I pray for everyday Lord Lucerys.”

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

**King’s Landing- One Moon Later**

 

Tyrion Lannister was tired of dealing with his sister and his goodbrother.

 

King Robert Baratheon, was a complete idiot. A man who refused to rule and drowned himself in whores and wine. The dwarf wasn’t sure if the man would have been any different with his so called ‘true love’. He liked to make fun of everyone, and seemed to pin all of his hopes and dreams on a woman he met once. He was brash, loud, and fucking annoying. He also failed to see his own flaws, and chased away his own brothers. Tyrion was not going to foist his responsibilities on Ser Kevan, he agreed with his father when he said the man was a follower, to whore with the man. He may hate his father but he will not allow his people to suffer because one man was a horrible father. He will not prove his father correct in his assumptions that Tyrion would make a bad Lord Lannister.  


 

Which meant he was not going to give the crown a loan for Robert Baratheon to piss away on tourneys, pretty whores, and wine. Or for his sister to sink into importing a ridiculous amount of exotic silks, lace, and other things she didn’t need. Nor would he pay for his insane nephew to get a new steel sword and horse that he truly didn’t bloody need. He was the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms if he wasn’t such an insane idiot maybe he would get gifts. He refused to allow his sister and goodbrother to continue doing stupid shite with his family money just so that his father could keep up appearances. There was enough Lannister coin sunk into Cersei's wreck of a marriage.  


 

His sister was still the vicious, arrogant, idiot, Tyrion knew well. She tried to threaten him but he had shut that thought of hers down.

 

“If you don’t do this I will-”

 

“You’ll do what sister? I am Lord of Casterly Rock in all but name. Father will not feed you money and scare me into submission any longer. He has been left invalid. You kill me and your own kin will attack. Fear gets people to respect you sister. But having people love you makes them ready to betray everything and everyone. It gives them the ability to rise up against tyrants. That is something that father never learned. Something that  _ you _ never learned.”

 

“You will lead us to ruin.” She hisses looming over him, slamming her goblet down.

 

“Will I? I do not ruin things sister. I make them work. I fix things. People whisper about how I can spin shit into gold, wine into jewels. However, I needn’t be taking criticism from a _doe_ for I am a lion. There has been enough coin sunk into your cock up of a marriage.”

 

He left her behind him seething. Her screams of anger and the sounds of her throwing around tables was music to his ears.  


 

Not long after he arrived in King’s Landing, Ser Arthur Dayne and his nephew also arrived at court. They had to present themselves to the King and swear fealty, why he had to do it in person Tyrion didn't know. Tyrion was eagerly awaiting seeing and possibly meeting Ser Arthur Dayne. He was among a dozen other lords and ladies in the Throne Room, the fat king actually sitting on the throne for the first time to greet his best friend’s bastard nephew.

 

They swept into the Throne Room. Ser Arthur Dayne certainly lived up to the stories. He was tall with broad shoulders. He wore polished silver armor, it was of a simple build, built for effectiveness rather than decoration. He wore a purple cloak with his family sigil on it. His hair was short and a silvery blonde and his eyes a piercing indigo. This combination made him look other worldly. The sword on his belt was legendary but sheathed it gave no indication of being the legendary Dawn.  


 

His nephew had very aristocratic features set on a long face. He was almost pretty. He had tight dark curls piled on top of his head spilling onto his forehead like dripping ink. His eyes were purple and intelligent. He wore a dark muted purple unlike the bright color of the Dayne's with a white wolf emblazoned on his chest. A clever nod to both of his noble families, and his roots as a bastard. His face was blank but Tyrion knew the child was scared and nervous. How could he not be? Tyrion was ten years his elder and he was nervous when he arrived in the capital.  


 

The two make their way to the front of the throne and just before they would hit the steps they kneel.

 

“Your grace,” The child says just loud enough for the entire room to hear.

 

“Stand up boy and let me look at you!” The King demands of the young child.

 

The child stands and looks up at the man who gestures for him to come closer. Tyrion didn’t know how old he was but he looked small. Especially when compared to the giant chair and the giant man sitting in it.

 

“You are ten correct?” Jon Arryn asks the child.

 

“Yes Lord Hand, I am ten years old.” He says his entire body tense, probably to keep himself from fidgeting.

 

“How have those bloody Targaryen loyalists been treating you?”

 

“As well as expected, your grace.” The young boy tells the King.

 

“If they give you any trouble send them to me.” The boy stiffens at that.

 

“I thank you for the offer your grace, but in the North a lord who cannot gain the respect his bannermen doesn’t deserve to be a lord at all.” The King laughs again.

 

“Good thing to think. If only I had more men around me like that. I look forward to watching what you’ll do to that gloomy place.”

 

“I hope to make you proud your grace.” He bows and Tyrion commended Ser Arthur for teaching the boy how to act in court.

 

“I’m sure you will, lad.”

 

The boy and his uncle then move, the King seemingly happy to ignore the former Kingsguard. They stay in court and when the King gets bored and leaves, most of the nobles follow after. Tyrion decides to go and talk with the two. Ser Arthur is of course defensive at his approach. Any of the Dornish would be after what his father did to their Princess and how his sister had treated their people.

 

“Ser Arthur, Lord Stark, it is a pleasure to meet the both of you. You have caused quite a stir, and truthfully my sister is rather angry and anything that makes her angry makes me happy.”

 

“My good fortune does set a dangerous precedent Lord Lannister. One I am sure will not be repeated ever again.” Tyrion immediately liked this child for all his solemnity the looks he gives his sister make Tyrion overjoyed.

 

“Of course, not many shall have such a good fortune. The Gods will not allow it. May I ask you questions about the North? I have always wanted to go but before my father wished to keep me close and I fear my duties have kept me in the Westerlands and King’s Landing.” The boy’s large violet eyes look at Ser Arthur who is considering Tyrion.

 

“Ser Armory Loch and Ser Gregor Clegane are currently going to lose their heads which shall be delivered to the Princess’ family. I intend to send a message Ser. I am not my father. Fear has kept our enemies in check, but I can see when we are weak.” That got the dornishman to raise an eyebrow.

 

“I believe I can tell you of Winterfell. However, I have not seen much of the North. Although Lord Lannister I think you would appreciate Winterfell’s library.”

 

“Oh I am most interested. Why do you think so?”

 

“I have heard that you like to read any book you can get your hands on. Winterfell has books older than the Seven Kingdoms in the library. Some are so old they are not even in the common tongue but the runic language of the First Men. Maester Luwin says that cold always slows the decay of things including books.”

 

“What of Winterfell?”

 

“It is a large castle but it is not pretty like the Red Keep. It is a fortress, the one that repelled the Boltons when they wished to fight against us. It is made of grey stone and sometimes when you ride away and come back it will be cloaked in a thick white fog and only the tallest towers rise above it. There are copper pipes that pump warm water from the hot springs underneath the castle. I know Lady Stark has the room with the most amount of pipes.”

 

“Truly? And what of the hot springs?”

 

“Well during the times it would snow many would go underneath the castle to soak in the warm waters. As long as they could dry themselves before going out into the snow they would be fine. Although one kitchen maid almost caught death because she did not dry herself off. Maester Luwin was able to help her in time however.”

 

“Maester? The family’s personal maester attends to your servants?”

 

“Do they not do that in the South?”

 

“Not really, and especially not now.”

 

“The plague hit hard.”

 

“Aye it did.”

 

Tyrion then says some pleasantries and decides to leave the child behind. He had work to do after all. He also had to contemplate the Southern Stark.


	4. Chapter 3: Networking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon in King's Landing. The King is infatuated with Ned Stark and anything to do with him. Jon does not know how to handle that and is tired of everyone confusing Wildlings and Northerners. Tyrion is a bit suspicious. Willas and Jon talk social change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this chapter done but I've had a crazy week. Two tests, my grandmother flew in from Florida, a sick brother, but I have a long weekend. So here is an update.

_“Networking is all about connecting with people. But then again, isn't that what life is about? The more time you can find to get out of the office and build true friendships, the farther your startup will go. Entrepreneurs need to remember to spend as much time working on their business as they do in their business.”_

_-Jay Samit_   
  


3rd Person PoV 

 

King’s Landing smelled worse than Jon could have imagined, worse than all of Ser Arthur’s warnings. Jon didn’t know if it had gotten worse or not. He didn’t want to be here. He worried every moment he was here, that the Spider would turn him in or that someone would find out his true heritage.

 

When Jon had seen the throne all he wanted was to shrink back from it. He could understand how Maegor the Cruel had died on one of its many swords. He didn’t understand why Aegon had forged the monstrosity. Apparently the man had a flair for the dramatic that Jon didn’t.

 

Ser Arthur and Jon were given rooms next to each other in Maegor’s Holdfast. Ser Arthur pointed out several spying devices in his rooms. One of them was a peephole that he put candle wax in. The walls were thin so someone could both listen in and break into the room easily. Jon could understand why his ancestors had done this but the devices could just as easily be turned against them.

 

Jon and Ser Arthur only wanted to stay for a sennight and stay under the radar.

 

However, one day he was invited to break his fast with the king and his brother Renly. Ser Arthur came with him much to the King’s obvious displeasure. Jon felt unsafe in the room. The King was a large man, and one that reveled in the deaths of Jon's siblings. If he was scared of the man well he was a large man and it was an awed fear. His brother Renly was certainly growing into a frame that was much like his eldest brother's.The king’s niece Lady Shireen was also at the meal. She was young with grey skin on her cheek.

 

“So Jon, what do you think of Lady Rhaena?” The King seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with women, loving their bodies but treating them as objects. It was an attitude that left Jon deeply uncomfortable.

 

“She didn’t like me very much at first but I think she likes me more than Bar Emmon’s heir.”

 

“Really? That’s… good. You Stark men seem to be able to charm women. I wonder what’s your secret.” The King says with obvious longing.

 

“Well I know Lady Catelyn is a good woman and my lord father did all he could to try and welcome her to Winterfell. Lord Durum treated Lady Rhaena like an object and she is a proud lady. I don’t believe I have charmed her though, your grace. Lord Durum is not someone many would like.” The King laughs, a deep bellowing laugh.

 

“Have you explored the castle much Lord Jon?” The King’s 10-and-6 year old brother asks him, blue eyes twinkling.

 

“I have explored a little but truly I have been devoting most of my effort to not becoming lost in my own castle, Lord Renly.”

 

Lord Renly looks like what Jon pictured the King to look like in his uncle’s stories of his with him boyhood in the Vale. He is tall and thick like a tree trunk with hair as black as night, and eyes the color of the summer sky. He was obviously attempting to befriend Jon. Jon wasn't sure if he had an agenda or if he wanted to emulate his brother.

 

“Yes, Dragonstone was quite a maze Lord Jon. I lived there my entire life and still sometimes seemed to get lost.” Shireen said quietly enough that Jon almost didn't hear her.

 

“It is quite a wonderful castle Lady Shireen. Your lord father and lady mother did a wonderful job of managing it.” The four year old girl gives him a shy smile in response.

 

“If there was one thing my brother could do it was run a castle. He was a good man, if a bit serious.” The King seems to have regrets when he speaks about his brother and Jon rapidly thinks of something to cheer the mercurial man up.

 

“You said that there was a hunt going to happen soon, your grace?” The man instantly brightened.

 

“Yes, there will be a hunt in a few days. Do you wish to come along?”

 

“I would be glad to your grace. Although, I believe Northern hunts are a little different. We allow younger children and ladies to lay traps.”

 

“Truly?”

 

“Aye, my father said he learned how to make traps from his Lady Grandmother, a Flint.” The King laughs at the tidbit.

 

“I don’t believe he ever spoke of that. Although no one of noble blood traps south of the Neck.”

 

“A pity your grace, it was a way that my father could have my brother and I stay behind while the adults went hunting for the real game.” That got both of the Baratheon men to laugh.

 

“I would imagine so!” The King laughs.

 

“Do you think you would participate in tourney’s Lord Jon?” His brother asks.

 

“No, I don’t think I would Lord Renly. Why should I give anyone an accurate measure of martial abilities? I might host them but I am too Northern to participate.”

 

“Truly? You seem to be fitting in rather well.”

 

“I try Lord Renly, but there are some ways I am still clinging to my heritage.”

 

“You and my foster Loras should spar sometimes. I am certain being trained under the sword of the morning would leave one with some abilities. You are around the same age.”

 

“I would be glad to Lord Renly. There aren’t many _children_ my age at Dragonstone.” Jon answers with a fake smile which gives the man pause.

 

Jon did not think Lord Renly was truly attempting something malicious but there was something about him that made Jon want to back up. He had his subconscious hackles raised.

 

The rest of the meal went by with a sense of awkwardness. Afterwards Jon made his way to the library. He had hoped that it would be a place of refuge. There they were met by the bookish Lord Willas and Lord Tyrion engaging in an interesting conversation.

 

“Lord Stark,” Jon squashed the urge to look for his father at Lord Tyrion’s exclamation. “Ser Arthur please help us settle this dispute.”

 

“I will endeavor to help Lord Tyrion, Lord Willas but I do not believe I will be that much of a help.”

 

“Nonsense, Lord Willas doesn’t believe that Winterfell has warm walls.”

 

“Well not the outside walls, unless you count some of the guard towers. There are hot springs underneath the castle and in the Godswood.  According to legend Brandon the Builder had copper piping run throughout the castle to heat the castle in the dead of winter, even if there was an absence of fires. And truly Lady Catelyn had the warmest room in the castle, and once my brother Robb and I found a loose stone in my room and it had pipes of copper. I scalded myself touching it.”

 

“I thought that was a myth.”

 

“Well I don’t see your people coming North that often to verify whether or not something is a myth or not, Lord Willas.” Willas laughs.

 

“That is true Lord Stark. Are there truly skinchangers?”

 

“Not that I’ve met. Although my uncle Benjen is a Ranger of the Night’s Watch and he says he came across what the wildlings call a warg. Apparently one woman could control a Shadow Cat but would fall down and have her eyes turn white when she did so.”

 

“That sounds terrifying. If the Wildlings can do that why haven’t they gotten across the Wall?”

 

“Truly? Because it is rather easy to kill a warg when they are controlling their beast. Along with the fact that they don’t truly have iron weapons except for a select few and they are constantly infighting. Not to mention the Wall is 700 feet high or taller in some places.”

 

“I suppose that does make sense. What of House Bolton? Do they still flay people?”

 

“I feel like the South believes my birthplace to be populated by Wildlings. The practice of flaying was outlawed long ago, before the Conquest even. Should Lord Bolton or any of his sons attempt to flay a person and my uncle finds evidence they will face the feel of Ice biting into their necks, and the possible extinction of his line.”

 

“I am certain you are already undoing some of those thoughts. You are not acting as a savage.”

 

“Truly you are probably more level headed and polite than the majority of the lords I’ve dealt with all day. Especially the young ones such as yourself.”

 

“I’m assuming many of them elevated because everyone else died? I wonder how many of them will manage their estates well. I know that it is hard to manage a castle and I have a trusted regent and no emotional connection to the castle. I cannot imagine for those having lost fathers, brothers, or uncles assuming that roll.”

 

“True enough, I felt thrust into a role I wasn’t not totally prepared for.” Tyrion adds seemingly puzzled by the topic of conversation.

 

“I feel most of us were. I also wonder how many of these castles will fall to ruin because of an unprepared lord. Lord Willas I am assuming that your grandmother is helping you much?”

 

“Yes, I will not lie, my grandmother’s reputation is well known and earned.”

 

“My aunt Lady Genna has also been instrumental in my rise to power and assuming the duties of Lord Lannister. I am assuming you are speaking about all of the wasted potential when it comes to just trusting men to rule?”

 

“Truly Lord Tyrion your reputation of a genius is well earned. Yes, it is a waste. Would you have trusted your father to rule without your grandmother Lord Willas?”

 

“No, I would not have. What are you trying to say Lord Stark?”

 

“I find it sad that we disregard women just because they, forgive me for being crude, don’t have a cock between their legs. I find that we should make an effort to protect the ladies of houses from the machinations of the men around them. I doubt the King has to time to worry about such things. However as I am to return to Dragonstone…”

 

“I will of course to endeavor to do so. The period of mourning is over but many houses stand on shaky footing. I will have to return eventually but I am staying for much longer. I am sure I can do all I can, but may I ask what spurred this on Lord Stark?” Willas seems delighted yet cautious.

 

“I am both of the North and of Dorne and while the North does not allow women to rule unless all of the men are dead it still allows our ladies to train in arms. My aunt was easily kidnapped because in an attempt to make his daughter appealing to a Southern lord my grandfather denied her that. My betrothed also made a comment on how I would no doubt attempt to stifle her and I was rather taken aback. I am not a slave master, I do not own her.”

 

“I understand, that must have been an awkward position to be in.” There is silence for a minute after Lord Willas' statement.

 

“You know what I don’t truly understand Lord Stark? You don’t look like Ser Arthur.”

 

“I take after my father, Ashara took after our mother. Is it an issue Lord Tyrion?”

 

“No just an interesting observation. You are almost pretty.”

 

“And so is your brother Lord Tyrion and Lord Willas. I don’t see you commenting on them.”

 

“True you are, Lord Jon. true you are.”


	5. Chapter 4: Machinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon guilt trips his uncle into sending him a friend and talks poltics.

_ “We have seen the best of our time: machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves.” _

_ -Gloucester, Scene I _

 

3rd Person PoV

 

Jon stayed in King’s Landing for a fortnight before going back to Dragonstone. Jon was not sure if Tyrion Lannister would figure out Jon’s true heritage, but he was sure the note he managed to slip into Willas’ hand during their goodbye handshake would tell him. He knew that the man was from a wealthy loyalist family that Jon certainly wished to make contact with.

 

He had seen the King and his disinterest in ruling and the Queen’s disinterest in her husband. Lord Renly was also not going to make a good king. He was just as much of a spendthrift as his brother and good sister. He was young yes, but he was also a student of his brother. He took what the King did as what was expected of a king. Which was to hold tourneys, lavish parties, and generally leave the Realm to rot. 

 

Jon had spent some time with Ser Arthur in the slums of Fleabottom. Ser Davos had tried to warn Jon but either the man had been attempting to spare him or it had gotten even worse than the last time Ser Davos had visited giving food and cloth to the commons. Neither Jon nor Ser Davos had much to spare but the people were so happy to get even what little they had. Dragonstone was supposed to give the Prince of Princess supplemental income and help support their children. It was not meant to function on it’s own.

 

Once Jon got home he began to try and revamp Dragonstone’s trade. That was what the island relied on the most. Stannis had not left Dragonstone in ruin and while most of the money went to his daughter, Lady Shireen, a good amount stayed in the vaults. The man was certainly frugal and his management of the port was immaculate. However, the man was not one to compromise, and some of his taxes had driven off trade.

 

Of course Jon was not allowed to sit for the grievances and he truly didn’t know what was happening when it came to taxes but he was trying to get to know these things.

 

He was still talking to his family and Robb and him told each other their concerns. He felt lonely with only Theon and he wasn’t exactly the best person to have around. Jon decided to be slightly manipulative and tell him that Robb was lonely along with Jon. As there weren’t a lot of children hanging around and the dragon seeds weren’t exactly glad to have him around. 

 

Ser Davos sent over a few of his younger sons to become his playmates. Maric and Mathos were fun to have around. They also were good to keep the King off of his back. The King, or more accurately his advisors and wife, were obviously worried about his loyalties to the crown. He was surrounded by those loyal to Targaryens, and half Dornish with his Dornish uncle being the only blood relative he had after all. Having the sons and the presence of a good solid man, who served Stannis Baratheon faithfully for many years, as Ser Davos was name the Castellan of Dragonstone.

 

The friendship Jon had cultivated with the quick witted Imp, and brother of the King was also a good move. Lord Tyrion wasn’t lying when he said that the Mountain and Ser Amory Lorch were killed. Apparently Prince Oberyn Martell was using the Mountain’s skull as a goblet. The King and Queen were not pleased but Tyrion told them that he wasn’t his father and if he wants to trade with Dorne then he better make nice with their rulers. It served to further alienate Tyrion from the Crown. Many in the Westerlands were also disgusted by the news that the King and Queen wanted to protect the Mountain.

 

Of course Ser Arthur wished that Jon could still be a child but honestly he felt he hadn’t had the most normal childhood in the first place. However, he still forced Jon to take days off and try and be a normal boy.

 

It was a few moons later that Ser Arthur informed him.

 

“Your father has gotten Lord Roose Bolton to agree to send his heir here to foster.”

 

“Domeric Bolton correct?”

 

“Yes, he shall be arriving in a moon if everything goes well.”

 

&  & &  & & &  & & & &  & & & & &  & & & &

 

Domeric didn’t know what his thoughts were on being fostered and squiring under Ser Arthur Dayne at Dragonstone. On one hand it was the Sword of the Morning. A legend of a man and there was another Northern boy that was going to be with him, Jon Stark formerly Snow. 

However, this was the South and not where his father had wanted him to go originally. Also it was unlikely it would gain his house any favor. He doubted the Southern Lady Stark would allow her children contact with their elevated bastard cousin.

 

Dragonstone was a grey and foreboding place, not unlike the Dreadfort. Only it must have been thrice the size and covered in exquisitely carved dragons. They land at the harbor and are greeted by a man wearing purple and silver. His hair was a light blonde and his eyes a piercing and unnatural indigo.

 

Jon Stark was younger than him and smaller than Domeric had expected. He had dark curly hair and purple eyes. His doublet wasn’t extremely fancy but the indigo color and the white wolf on the front were quite interesting. It seemed that the boy had never forgotten both sides of his heritage left on opposite sides of the continent, nor his roots as a bastard.

 

“Domeric Bolton welcome to Dragonstone.” The smile that went across his face was genuine and mayhaps the boy had needed someone from home in the South.

 

“I’m glad to be here Lord Stark.” He clasps the boy’s forearm and they begin making their way towards the castle after they were done shaking their hands.

 

Ser Arthur was dealing with the men that were a part of his retinue. The boy, who was a couple years younger than Domeric, seemed content to talk with him.

 

“Well I’m glad to have someone from my homeland. Southerns are very different that us Northerners. Everything has to be made pretty, they talk to much about stupid things, and they throw food away.”

 

“What?” Domeric’s very blood practically rebelled at the thought of throwing away food, throwing away food was a good way to start a rebellion in the North. “Why? And where was this?”

 

“King’s Landing the Queen didn’t want fine food falling into the hands of people she felt didn’t deserve it. The leftovers of ten courses, it could feed a small holdfast for a week. I just about screamed.” The boy said the last part quietly and conspiratorially.

 

“And the King didn’t stop it?” He would have thought that if the Queen was going to do something so heinous that surely the man would stop the Lannister woman.

 

“You’ll find that the King is usually to deep in his cups to care about anything other than wasting money on ridiculous extravagances.”

 

“And your uncle is friends with this man?”

 

“I don’t think my uncle knows what he’s turned into, no one wants to think badly of a person they are close too.”

 

So Jon Stark dislikes the King and Queen, but Domeric would as well if complete and utter waste. The boy might seem sweet on the surface but this boy was definitely of Rickard Stark’s blood. He was scheming and trying to manipulate Domeric. Although he doubted the boy was contemplating treason or something similar. He probably just disliked the Lannister and wanted the men around him on his side to endear him to the Loyalist men that were his bannermen.

 

“Have your spoken to your uncle about this?”

 

“Aye, I’ve also told my cousin and warned Lady Sansa about what really goes in court. I hope that she wisens up and realizes life isn’t a song. Stark women haven’t had the best track record recently.”

 

“Lady Stark hasn’t stopped your communication with your siblings?”

 

“My uncle might have given her a sept to pray in but when it came to me he has always been unyielding. She has apparently quieted down now that I am out of her sight. She also doesn’t have much control over Robb if your father is worried about a Southern Lord Stark taking over the North.”

 

Truly the boy was good at politics. He apparently knew his father and his concerns with his brother. He was certainly astute.

 

“You truly are the grandson of Rickard Stark.”

 

“And you are the nephew of Barbrey Ryswell.” Well the boy was not wrong as Domeric had always felt closer to his mother’s sister, politically minded but not so horrid as his father.

 

“So I am.” Jon gives him a feral smile.

 

“I think we’ll be good friends Domeric.”

 

“Aye I think we might be as well.”

 

“Jon!” A female voice yells and he sees a pretty Valyrian looking girl, probably his betrothed Lady Rhaena Velaryon. “Who is this?”

 

“Lady Rhaena Velaryon meet Lord Domeric Bolton, the heir to one of my father’s most powerful bannerman. Domeric meet my betrothed Lady Rhaena.”

 

“Lord Domeric, how are you at the bow?”

 

“Better at that than using the sword if I am honest. Although I think my ability on a horse outweighs all of that.”

 

“Good, Jon and my uncle are horrid at archery. I’ll be glad to have a challenge.”

 

“I would be offended if it weren’t true.” Domeric chuckles before being dragged off by an impatient Lady Rhaena to have an archery contest which she wins.


	6. Chapter 5: Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters sent from Jon, to Jon, or about Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long it's taken for me to update this and other fics. I got hit hard with school but I got straight A's for last semester so yay! So here's an update. Mostly fluff and short, sort of a filler chapter but I like it.  
> Also I made a shitty cover for this using ipiccy. Find it on my tumblr here!  
> https://realmeowmeowmerida97.tumblr.com/post/170426796978/another-ipiccy-cover-for-story-starks-of

_“Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.”_

_-C. S. Lewis_

 

3rd Person PoV 

 

**_Dear Robb,_ **

**_I promise cousin you need not fear for Lady Sansa’s future as the Lady of the Dreadfort. I have met Domeric Bolton now and after almost five moons I can assure you where his father is colder than the lands beyond the Wall, Domeric is a summer wind._ **

**_Domeric is a competent archer, jouster, and swordsmen. However, he takes after his Ryswell mother because the older boy seems to turn into a centaur whenever mounted on a horse. Uncle Ned used to say that I was practically born on a horse but even accounting for the age difference he leaves me in the dust when it comes to being a horseman. I find myself at turns awed and angered, angered whenever he beats me at a race even though I should know the lands better, at his skill._ **

**_He is also the closest I’ve seen to a Northern knight, that still worships the Old Gods, that I have come across. Although his ability to sing coupled with his ability with the harp might set some tongues wagging. I doubt the man would do anything other than be perfectly proper to your sister._ **

**_How goes with wooing Lady Wynafryd? I understand that she is a woman with great skill at leaving the average boy tongue tied. I hope that she doesn’t embarrass you too much.  Although I would very much like to know what she has done to you if she has caused some great embarrassment._ **

**_Yes before you ask cousin I have been trying with Lady Rhaena. She seems to take great pleasure in hopelessly beating me and Domeric in archery contests when she visits and sending horribly drawn sketches of figures and telling me that it resembles me. On top of that she has, on one occasion, gotten into the kitchens to dye my teeth blue. I would very much like to know the dye that Lady Wylla uses in her hair regularly. I need to repay the favor. Ser Aurane spit his wine across the table when I forgot myself and smiled and he has been calling me Lord Bluetooth eversince._ **

**_Love,_ **

**_Your Dearest and Only Cousin_ **

**_Lord Jon Stark of Dragonstone_ **

 

**_Dear Jon,_ **

**_I am glad to hear that Domeric isn’t someone I will have to keep from flaying me or my sister alive. However, I will skin him myself should he harm my sister in any way and I want you to convey that to him as soon and as impolitely as possible._ **

**_As for the hair dye, Lady Wylla is only too glad to send you some. Although she asks for the differences between her hair color and Lady Rhaena’s. I think you shall find this easy to do and although I would not like to read your likely long winded description._ **

**_I have also begun to train Ayra in arms. She is a vicious little girl, ruthless is probably the best description. She has gotten very good at archery. She is probably as good as I am which is quite annoying. While mother doesn’t love the fact that I’ve begun training my sister is arms. Archery is something that ladies often do in the South. Sansa is also quite good, I fear my sisters will have surpassed me in that aspect of martial training by the time Sansa is ten._ **

**_I have also started to write to some of the other young lords or the North like Lord Kevan Forrester and some of the younger Karstarks. Eddard Karstark is quite funny and Kevan has started to teach me some codes that we can use. Sansa has also started conversing with Lady Wylla, and Lady Alys Karstark while Arya has started to write to some of the younger Mormont girls. I think father will have her fostered there eventually. It’s likely a good idea. I don’t think Arya would thrive anywhere else except for the Mountain Clans and among the Wildlings._ **

**_I am glad that I am not the only ones making friends._ **

**_Love,_ **

**_Your near twin and beloved cousin_ **

**_Robb Stark, Heir of Winterfell_ **

 

**_Lord Tyrell,_ **

**_I am glad that you have reached out to me recently. Your letter was interesting and the books you’ve lended me are completely and utterly fascinating. I didn’t know the true extent of what has been changed on Dragonstone in the last one hundred years. The fact that Aerys had been marked down as a boy for showing the early signs of madness by his own grandfather is terribly sad and ironic. It is a wonder what would have changed for Westeros had Aerys not gained the throne._ **

**_I am doing well at Dragonstone, and now that Domeric is here it is less lonely. He has become a dear friend and it is good to have someone with me. It has been much easier now that I have someone with even half of my experiences. The Andals and the First Men are very different and yet horribly similar enough that is makes my head spin._ **

**_My uncle Ser Arthur does put up a good front of being a perfect knight but truthfully he is awful. He makes horrid puns at all hours, sends his squires on hunts for imaginary animals and armor pieces that he swears are vital to his success as a swordsmen. He is as much of a snake as the Red Viper is, only he actually bothers to hide it._ **

**_I hope that you are having as much success as you possibly can in King’s Landing. After visiting I know it can be a hard place to be in. Especially after the chaos of the Plagues even though it has been a few years. I know that it is hard to recover from it. Many of the people that once lived on Dragonstone perished in the plague, the population has been half decimated. No matter how much it’s people have tried to make up for it since._ **

**_Has your brother Loras been well? I know that being far away from home can be hard, but I’m glad that he isn’t completely alone. I wish I could have had some of my cousins with me when I left._ **

**_I also hope that little Shireen has been well. She might not be blood family but our uncles are close friends and her father and mother managed the castle I lived in for years. Losing your parents so young must have been devastating. I know being an orphan with rumors of your mother leaving you behind had been lonely and saddening._ **

**_Your friend,_ **

**_Lord Jon Stark of Dragonstone_ **

 

**_Father,_ **

**_I have settled in quite nicely with Lord Jon Stark’s household. Jon Stark, formerly Snow, is every inch the grandson of the late Rickard Stark with his Southern uncle’s talent in swordplay._ **

**_He speaks of horrid things happening in the capital the sheer waste of food and goods that the King and Queen engage in is barely comprehensible by my Northern standards. He apparently saw the leftovers of a ten course feast fit to feed a small holdfast for a long while thrown away because the Queen hates her smallfolk that much._ **

**_Also despite being half a continent a part Robb Stark and Jon Stark are closer than some brother’s I’ve met. Their near twinship hasn’t ceased. They plot political courses together and talk trade from what I’ve been able to ascertain. Their letters are in the incomprehensible runic language of the First Men or in some Valyrian dialect and coded if they are speaking of something important._ **

**_Jon Stark has also gathered many allies here in the South and urged his cousin to do the same in the North. He regularly trades books with Lord Willas Tyrell and writes long letter to Lord Tyrion. On top of that despite being sired by an Usurper’s dog, as many of the Lords near Dragonstone call the Stark family, he has won over his fellow Islanders. I both respect his capabilities and fear his insight. If I believed in such stories I would believe him to be a greenseer. He is in turns quiet and boisterous a true player of the game as the Southerners call it._ **

**_I have a feeling that the next Lord Stark will have Lord Rickard’s political acumen but with none of his Southern ambitions. There is also a high chance of possible return to the Old Ways coming. I know Lord Jon has learned and is teaching me the Old Tongue. He has also urged me to write letters to his cousin. I know I am likely being manipulated however, I don’t believe it to be a bad manipulations. Whatever Lord Jon’s and Robb Stark’s endgames are I believe they are for the betterment of the North._ **

**_I hope that this pleases you to know that the Stark’s shall finally shrug off the last of Lord Rickard’s stupidity and leave it behind._ **

**_Your son and heir,_ **

**_Domeric Bolton_ **

 


	7. Chapter 6: The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding of Lord Jon Stark and Lady Rhaena Velaryon was sure to be a grand affair. Rhaena was quite tired of dealing with all of these bloody idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So later Happy Holidays and early Happy New Year. Yes it's been a long time but I've had a crazy time. Nursing school applications, work, school, figuring out I can probably get an associates degree soon. (Woo!) So crazy, but here's an update.
> 
> So this takes place when Jon is fourteen so like normal book canon age.

 

_ "I was married by a judge. I should have asked for a jury."  _

_-Groucho Marx_  


3rd Person PoV 

 

Lady Rhaena Velaryon was not a girl to be trifled with. She was not the best with a sword but she was a vicious girl and she had abilities with a bow.  However she also understood that spitting and fighting got you nowhere sometimes.

 

So the King talking about her whore Lyseni mother and her likely incest with various male relatives was insulting but not unexpected. She could tell that Jon was hiding his fury under his court face or his ‘mummer’s mask’ as he called it.

 

She would bear it. She would bear it for the day that fat fuck realized his kingdom was going to be stolen from under him and he had given the blade to his executioner. She would bear the Lannister bitch and her unsubtle insults. She would bear it all with a smile. Let them think her sweet and simple and not a threat. Sea monsters were ambush predators and she was a sharp tooth siren at heart.

 

Nearly everyone from Westeros came to her wedding. Both of the Baratheon brothers. Multiple members of the Tyrell family and a plethora of their vassals. Lord Willas had married a Caswell Lady named Dayana less than a year ago. A wedding that Jon had attended. Lord Tyrion and his court along with his wife Lady Alysanne Lannister formerly Lefford. They already had an heir, a hale golden haired child named Jason. He had none of his father’s deformity and all of the handsome qualities of some of the Lannister men. Lord Stark brought all but his eldest and youngest Robb and Rickon.

 

Even the current Lord Dayne, Edric who was all of ten years old, came with his aunt Allyria. She was only two years Jon’s senior.

 

As the Royal Court flooded Dragonstone following the Stark party. She was forced to abandon her archery practice, spend time with a bunch of simpering sycophants, and stay away from her betrothed.

 

She didn’t begrudge him reconnecting with his younger cousins however. Direwolves were pack animals and while he was a dragon he had been nurtured by his mother’s family. Domeric was happy to meet his betrothed and Sansa the sweet girl thought him to be a knight of a song just for her.

 

Domeric was happy to play that role for Rheana's future good sister. Arya latches onto her and stays by her side throughout the preparations.

 

The day dawns brightly, there is no fog surrounding the island. Rhaena is in a little room with her female relatives and the Stark girls getting gussied up. Her eyes are lined with kohl, a few powders are put on her eyes, silvery in color.

 

She is wearing a white, and the green blue color of her house. A huge hippocamp taking up the entirety of her back. Her grandmother’s dark pearls draped around her neck and on her wrists. She look like some sort of ocean princess.

 

She looks in the mirror as her aunt braids obsidian, moonstone and pearls in her hair. She almost wants to collapse. She is a girl of thirteen. She barely had her moons blood. She was not ready to be a bride. A child not a woman. By tonight no matter what she or Jon wanted, her virginity had to be gone.

 

It was terrifying to think about.

 

However she acted as she should. She was demure, blushing, and shy from all men. Even as she thought about plunging a dagger into their heart. Truthfully it was the only way to keep her sane. They leered at her and laughed at her family but the thought of pulling out a bow and putting arrows in their black hearts was sweet enough to keep her going forward.

 

There are two ceremonies, the first is at the base of a Heart Tree that was barely bigger than a sapling and had a laughing face carved into it. A face that gave some of the older members of the court pause and the King blinked. The oaf, never knowing when not to stomp over niceties decides to interrupt.

 

“The laughing weirwood tree, wasn’t that a knight’s shield in the Tourney of Harrenhal.” Jon freezes, it was his mother’s shield.

 

“Aye, it was, your grace.” Lord Stark answers a little wary. “I was just as shocked as you are when it was revealed.”

 

“Mayhaps we should finish the wedding before we interrogate the bridegroom’s father.” Lady Lannister says dryly looking more than a little bored. Rhaena wanted to hug the woman.

 

The King doesn’t like her husband but he’s always been a sucker for pretty women. He was enchanted if you dressed and acted the right way. Something that all of the stupid vapid women had used to hopefully play off the sympathies for a man who cares for no one but a ghost who hated him in real life. Whatever the young maidens sacrificed for their families’ collective greed was for nothing. So the ceremony finishes and is then moved to the sept. The sept was never large, dedicated to small ceremonies, royal marriages happened in King’s Landing. Nothing the size of their wedding party had been seen on the island since Rhaenyra’s time.*

 

Only the most important got seats in the sept. The King of course, the members of his family that bothered to come which meant everyone including his soft and sweet young son Tommen. His other brother was left to hold the Realm together an idea that was quite bad all things considered.

 

Then came Jon’s family. Lord Stark and his children all got seats or were involved in the ceremony in the case of little Arya, who was making sure the train wasn’t going to get snagged on anything. The lord and ladies paramount were also in attendance. The women of the both the Stark and Velaryon families had a hard time managing to not offend the Queen’s brother by putting him too far from the Royal Couple while also making sure the Queen wouldn’t do something to cause a scene.

 

However they managed it. The Queen as far from her brother as they could make it. It was something that people noticed. Something that people would talk about.

 

The trend continued much to the ire of the Queen. She could tell that many were gossiping about her. The Queen who only gave her husband one son, a sweet boy too gentle to be a good king. Queen Cersei Lannister had become less and less popular as time went on. In fact the King was not the most popular either. The plague and following years were mishandled many, many times. The rumors that the King had wanted to protect the Mountain from Justice was another thing to rise the ire of honorable rebel and loyalist houses alike.

 

The King had tried to enter into politics more but the man’s attempts were often times clumsy at best and utterly foolish at worst. The Queen sent more barbs her way during the dinner.

 

“You are quite young, the both of you. I do hope it doesn’t hurt your chances at a babe.”

 

“The young are fertile your grace. My only worry is the birthing bed. Might I ask advice from a veteran such as yourself?”

 

“Whatever advice I could give would be out of your head as soon as the labor pains hit.”

 

“Is it truly so painful?” She could tell the queen was getting more and more annoyed with her as time passed.

 

“Your grace might my new wife be excused? I believe we should dance.” Jon saved her from that annoying fate.

 

Once they were on the dance floor they felt safe enough to speak to each other. Jon had been a horrible dancer until Arthur had told him to think of it like footwork for swordplay. Then he became just good enough to be passable and not step on her feet constantly.

 

“Thank you for the save from the lioness, my charming husband.”

 

“You would think that one of those two would know how not to piss people off.” He whispers into her ear inconspicuously. “Especially when I’m a loyal lord.”

 

“The Queen has her pride, and the king has never learned shame.”

 

“And neither are trusted to actually do their duties.” He says with a hint of disgust that doesn’t show his disgust on his face.

 

“You’ve gotten good at that.” She comments a praise for him.

 

“Want to escape before the King can call a bedding?” He gets close to her ear and whispers it with glee.

 

“Of course my darling, as my lord husband wants.” He quickly and quietly makes his way from the ballroom, tugging her behind him.

 

They pretend to giggle like the overeager children they are supposed to be. They pass Ser Arthur and Domeric on the way. They disappeared into the Prince’s Quarters. The rooms had been redone to make them less dragon-like and less like it had been owned by Targaryen's. Not that Lord Stannis had less much for that in the first place. They had tapestries of wolves, weirwoods, and old Northern stories on the walls. A way to make the King less suspicious but also partially because of Jon’s own preferences.

 

&  & &  & & &  & & & &  & & & & &  & & & &

 

It was a good hour later when nearly everyone was good and drunk, full from the meals, and dizzy from the dancing that the king announced.

 

“It’s time for the bedding!” The King shouted. “Where are they?”

 

“They snuck off earlier your grace.” Domeric Bolton reported to the drunk king. “They passed us giggling in the halls about an hour past.”

 

The King looked more than a little mad at first. However, then he got a smile all men had when discussing scandalous things to do with women. He turns to lord Stark.

 

“It seems your boy couldn’t wait, ey Ned?” The Lord is flushed from the wine already so no one can tell if it becomes worse.

 

“Aye your grace.” The man says a little wary of his very drunk childhood friend.

 

“The men of the North don’t necessarily like our wives and daughters open to all the men around them, your grace.” Lord Benjen told them. “We don’t usually have beddings for good reason.”

 

There was a bout of drunken laughter at such racy material. It wasn’t usually talked about and everyone could see how uncomfortable Lord Stark and many others were. Some were joking over how much of a prude the man was. Lord Karstark set that to right, drunk and lumbering, gesturing wildly.

 

“Our Lord might not wish to speak of such things but he has six children, five trueborn, and three sons. The man obviously does something in his bed.” The Lord Paramount of the North grimaces and begins to massage his temples.

 

“I don’t wish to discuss this anymore, your grace. What I do with my Lady wife is my business, and what my nephew and son in all but blood does with his is his.” The King laughs loudly but others see the man's love for his nephew, it was rare for a man to claim another man's bastard as a son. 

 

“More wolf’s blood in you than anyone thought.” The king slurs with a smile. 

 

“I’ve heard that even a trace amount is enough, your grace.” Lady Mormont said with a feral grin.

 

With that out of the way. The party continued well into the night. Enough so that when the next morning came many were half asleep or sick at the breaking of their fasts. The young Lord Jon seemed pleased with himself while his new wife said nothing. Although the bloody and soiled sheet behind them proved enough of what they’ve done.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the soiled blanket is a little bit disgusting but it will be explained in the next chapter which I hope will also be finished before my break ends.
> 
> * Rhaenyra was the heiress of Viserys the First and was supposed to be the next ruler of Westeros. However the King remarried and had a son Aegon the Second, who was declared King by his mother and the Kingsgaurd. Unfortunately the civil war called the Dance of the Dragons ended up will his sons dying or disappearing, his wife committing suicide, and him dying from wounds. Rhaenyra's son took the throne after and was supposed to marry his uncle's daughter but she either committed suicide or was killed to stop the marraige when she was very young. So the current Targaryen's are descendants of Rhaenyra. Also the Velaryon's supported Rhaenyra along with the Starks as she was technically the rightful heir. Also Rhaenyra's oldest son supposedly got busy with Cregan Stark's bastard daughter of unknown name.*
> 
> Fun facts are great huh?


	8. Chapter 7: A Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon settles into his lordship. Deals with traitors among his household, and begins the backdrop of war.
> 
> Including Jon teaching politics to Arya and Cersei's paranoia doing bad things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised that this was done so fast but it was just so interesting I kept typing. Happy 2019 here's another chapter.
> 
> Also some people have been asking. No Jon and Rhaena haven't consummated the marriage. They faked it because honestly I don't care if Jon is fourteen or not Rhaena is way to young for anything.

_ “I can make a lord, but only God can make a gentleman.”  _

_ -King James I _

3rd Person PoV

 

After he was married it seemed that Jon was finally being trusted to run things more. He was 10-and-4 now, on the cusp of manhood. At his side through everything now was his dearest friend, Domeric Bolton, poised to be family within the decade, and his now wife, Rhaena. 

 

The wedding party was more than a little tiring. He hadn’t seen the King since not long after the revelation of his true parentage. He had been numb then, but now he was not. He had employed the mask he used for court for almost the entirety of the visit. Anger had been his constant companion when dealing with the king. This was a man who tore down a dynasty for a delusion and gloried in the deaths of children. Rhaenys was a girl of barely three, his brother a babe.

 

How could anyone kill a child?

 

As a married lord it was expected of him to produce children. However, no one would be too surprised that a girl as young as Rhaena would take a few years to have a child. 

 

Many things in his life were nothing more than a farce. His name and his station were farces. His parentage as known was a farce. Not that his uncle Brandon would mind him hiding as his son when his life was on the line. There were many lies and webs he had to spin to make sure that he would live. Now there was to be one more. He hoped that no one attempted to annul his marriage to Rhaena. Jon wasn’t his father, he wasn’t about to have sex willing or not with a child. He understood the irony of that statement, but he wasn’t so deluded to believe that in body he wasn’t a child.

 

Another bit of his anger to place squarely on the chest of the Fat Stag. He hoped that his growing ire would make the man die in his sleep peacefully. Unlike Robert he was not about to forget their kinship no matter how distant.

 

_ ‘Once, a Targaryen and Baratheon were brothers. Orys and Aegon the First would kill themselves before they would betray the other. How could he a man raised by the cousin of a king no matter bring himself to kill a cousin and glory in his children’s deaths?’ _

 

Jon wasn’t so deluded to not see the problems his father had, for the Silver Prince did have them. He was a man ruled by prophecy and tinged by death and sadness so deep it seemed to drown him. He had been raised in a manner that suggested that consequences existed but would not truly affect him. His mother had problems too but most were because of her youth, something she could have grown out of if given the chance. 

 

“Jon, are you going to brood for the whole morning or are you going to teach me how to fight?” His little cousin asks him impatiently.

 

Arya was a joy to be around. She and Rhaena were similar but different. Where Rhaena purposefully drilled herself in being both a lady and at least useful in a fight. Arya wanted nothing to do with being a lady. She detested sewing, calligraphy, and all of the womanly arts. Obviously this grated on Lady Catelyn and so she sent her away from the North to encourage her ascent into ladyhood.

 

“Aye, come on we’re dealing with daggers today.”

 

“Why can’t we go to swords?” The girl asks with a pout and arms crossed.

 

“A dagger is easy to have on hand for a man or a woman, and even easier to hide. There will be times when a sword and a bow would be bad ideas. Even in a hovel you might find a knife.” That seemed to appease his wolf blooded cousin.

 

“You don’t think I can’t use a sword?”

 

“It would be foolish of me to believe that. There are many women who are exemplary warriors. However, the most dangerous opponent is the one no sees coming.”

 

“I’m not going to be a perfect lady.”

 

“I don’t expect you to be a Southern lady, your father doesn’t either. A Northern lady is both woman and warrior, often times. Including our great-grandmother who is your namesake.” The girl seemed to smile. “Our grandfather wanted to bring the North prestige but he did so by trying to stamp out our traditions.”

 

“And they didn’t like that did they?”

 

“They?”

 

“The Northern lords, they didn’t like that our grandfather wanted the North more like the South.”

 

“Correct little wolf, a few are still mad at your mother as a Southern Lady Stark. It’s why Robb’s betrothed to Lady Wylla and Sansa to Domeric. The North as a whole is more loyal, for they have stood strong for millennium, however that does not mean that discontent cannot begin to fester.”

 

“Does that mean I will have to marry a Northern Lord?”

 

“Possibly but you might not have to. With the rebuilding of Moat Cailin and the betrothals of your siblings it might die down enough for you to do as you wish.”

 

“Sansa is going to be fostered with Lady Barbery. I heard she doesn’t like mother much.”

 

“Aye, another way to make a bridge, Lady Barbery would have been Lady Stark if my father had any say.”

 

“Then…?”

 

“Then why am I the son of Lady Ashara?” He asks with a bit of mirth in his voice. “Lady Barbery is barren according to reports, my mother wasn’t. Now to the lesson.”

 

&  & &  & & &  & & & &  & & & & &

 

As Rhaena poured over the figures of her new household, a problem emerged. She knew from her grandfather and uncles that piracy was a problem. However, as she looked over the finances and some of the reports of it in the area the problem became all to real. A large problem that was left unaddressed by a fat king who cared almost nothing for the traitorous sister fucking islanders.

 

“We need to address this problem my lord. This is our home. We are being terrorized by pirates.”

 

“Aye and we’ve tried to beg the crown for help. Obviously the crown has not the means to do so.” Jon tells Rhaena in their private conference. “I shall write to all of the coastal lords who might give us aid. Our trade and that of the crown's must not be attacked any longer.”

 

“Should we find that some lords are participating in this thievery?”

 

“Then we shall report them. I’m sure the King will delight in dealing with traitors.” He declared just a bit sarcastically.

 

“And of the coin to raise and feed such a force?”

 

“I’m certain the Iron Bank shall be paid great returns with the goods we shall liberate from such thieves.”

 

“And of the human goods?”

 

“I’m certain many will jump at the chance of freedom, and many lords in increased tax revenue from new citizens on their lands.”

 

“Some might call this treason, husband. To go behind the King’s back.”

 

“The King turned his back in the first place. If his wife pleases to import expensive goods into my sphere of influence and he fails to protect it, then I shall have to do his job for him.”

 

There is a knock on the door and Maester Korlind enters. He was not privy to the truth of Jon’s parentage. They knew him to be one of the Queen’s spies. He was installed to keep an eye on Rhaena. The reason, likely the blonde queen’s distrust of anyone able to rival her beauty in any way. Even if that was a young Valyrian looking girl.

 

“Maester Korlind, is something a matter? I was just about to go to court for the day. I have not forgotten.”

 

“No my lord it isn’t that. A letter has arrived from Highgarden. Lady Dayana Tyrell is with child.” The two of them glance out of the corner of their eyes, the man isn’t subtle.

 

“Good news to hear from my friend. I know Lord Willas has had misgivings in the past, and concerns due to his injury. Mostly unfounded in my eyes. I shall write a letter of congratulations, and I’m sure to wait with bated breath for the child’s safe delivery into the world.” He grabbed a few sheafs of clean parchment.

 

“How many moons along is Lady Dayana?” Rhaena asks politely.

 

“It says four moons.” So around the time of their marriage.

 

“I’m certain Lady Dayana is thrilled. I know she was quite jealous of Lady Lannister and her son Jason.” She bows to her husband. “I shall write to her in congratulations. I hope that this is the first child in a long number of them.”

 

“Of course wife.” She leaves and that is when the Maester decided to say something.

 

“My lord what were you two speaking of?”

 

“Piracy and the effect it has on trade. She’s been going through the figures.” He tells the man. “A larger threat than I thought it was.”

 

“My lord is her math sound?”

 

“Maester I shall speak plainly. My wife shall be with me for the more of my life, gods willing, then you shall spend with me. Your attempts at undermining her and spying are not appreciated and not to be tolerated any longer. If you continue this path you shall find yourself banished from this castle.” The man is pale and tense. 

 

“My lord-“

 

“Maester I am young but I am no fool. I do not appreciate the Queen sending men into my home to spy on my household. And I’m certain the King will jump at the chance to get rid of a threat to a friendly lord who he raised up.”

 

"Your wife is not yet with child. Will the king be pleased that you’ve failed in that duty?” The man challenges.

 

“A dangerous accusation to say that I failed in that duty. We’ve been married for four moons, and girls as young a Rhaena often have problems. Lord Willas and his wife took two years for his lady to fall with child and Lady Dayana is six years her senior. Lord Willas also comes from a fertile stock with the amount of cousins and siblings he has.” Jon stands, he isn’t taller than the Maester but he has a sword on his belt and youth on his side. “You’ve spied on my wife and my household. You belittle her in front of me, and you challenge my manhood. Maester, I am displeased to say the least. Mayhaps you should spend time with your order and a man with some tact and discretion put in your place.”

 

“I will not send the letter for you.” The man says proudly.

 

“Tying a letter to a raven’s leg is simple enough. I know which go to my vassal lords and which one goes to my wife’s house. I am certain Lord Velaryon would be very keen on such information. Now leave my sight, and pack your bags. If you are not gone within the next three days I will throw you on a ship myself.”

 

The man hussels off and Jon takes a deep breathe. He sets about writing the letters to deal with the pirate problem. His father had once tried to use the excuse of a tourney to call a council. Jon shall have to do the same, to hide the larger treason under the smaller one of lords calling armies to deal with something the king won’t.

 

A mummer’s show to hide the seeds of a rebellion.


End file.
